


Hero

by orphan_account



Category: EastEnders
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-06
Updated: 2012-06-06
Packaged: 2017-11-07 02:17:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/425793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christian realises that Zainab's history with Yusuf wasn't all that rosy and steps in to play the hero leading to a rareheart-to-heart. Trigger warning for references to abuse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hero

Title: Hero  
Rating: 12A probably for discussion of some adult stuff that might upset some people.  
Word Count: 5205

Disclaimer: All publicly recognisable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: I have two stories for you, each quite different but basically they're Christian and Syed talking with people we don't see them talking with. This one is a serious sort of Christian and Zainab two hander. Christian plays the hero, Zainab and Christian talk. Not a complicated story but I've been working at trying to set the right tone and I'm not sure I manage in the circumstances causes there's some serious issues in here so any and all feedback very much appreciated.

 

~

 

“I suppose that's one good thing about being a black sheep: Christian and Mum don't have heart-to-hearts.”

Syed Masood

28-02-11

 

~

 

It was early in the morning in Albert Square. Spring was in the air, the first warmth of the season on a beautiful clear February morning. The cloud, what there was of it, was hanging high in the sky with patches of blue sunshine pooling through in weak floods onto the houses and streets below. In the Square a few early birds were chirping optimistically as a few of the neighbourhood's early risers were leaving for work. Billy was strolling along on his way to the cart and a few other stallholders were beginning to set up. The sunshine, weak as it was, held a little bit of warmth that valiantly tried to banish the chill of the still air that had settled in overnight and the first crocuses and snowdrops were beginning to flower in the flower beds around the garden in the middle of the square.

 

On Bridge Street a blue door opened and a tall, ruffled blonde stepped out onto the street pulling on a skin-tight fleecy top over a long sleeved t-shirt. His first client wasn't for another hour, but he and Syed were both working today and they were almost at the end of their last toilet roll and if he didn't go for it now, chances were they would both be caught short when they came home from work that afternoon. Thankfully, Patrick Truman was up bright and early as usual and they passed the time of day together as Christian's item was passed through the till.

 

“And how's that boyfriend of yours? You know I can't work out how his mum and Denise are such good friends and she won't even talk to her own son! She's a stubborn woman, that Zainab.”

 

“Yeah, well, we get by, you know?”

 

“Well anyway, you two take care, you hear me?”

 

“Thanks, Patrick. See you around, yeah?”

 

 

Walking out onto the Square again, Christian stopped a few feet from the door to the Minute Mart and looked at his watch. If he went back now Syed would probably be in the middle of fajr, he realised, and so he decided to walk round the Square and head back by the Arches, giving him time to clear his head and giving Syed time to finish his morning prayers. With that in mind he set off down Bridge Street towards Albert Square, through the park and by the Queen Victoria pub before heading round past the community centre towards Turpin Road. Given the early hour of the morning, he should have guessed that it wouldn't be a surprise to see Zainab up bright and early at the door to the Masala unit and for a moment he considered going the other way until he saw the bags in her hands and figured he would just hang back until she was gone and had disappeared inside. At the same time a tall man in running gear was heading up Turpin Road towards George Street with headphones in and when he came closer, Christian saw it was the man he had learned through Tamwar to be Yusuf Khan, Afia father and by a strange quirk of fate, the man that Syed's mother had been married off to as a teenager.

 

Christian stalled. He wondered if Yusuf might stop and say hello, after all the man seemed keen to get to know all his future in-laws, making no bones about any pre-existing family feuds and if Yusuf did stop that would only attract Zainab. Syed didn't need any more grief from his mother than he was already getting; but Yusuf didn't seem to notice Christian's presence at all as he passed the betting shop and cast his eyes past the war memorial ready to cross the street, It was instead Zainab the new doctor saw and focussed on. In fact, fixated might be a more appropriate word for Yusuf, once his eyes were on Zainab, casually crossed the street at a jog and stopped next to her, his eyes never moving once from the middle-aged woman.

 

He had known through Syed and Tamwar that this man was their mother's ex-husband and he had imagined many times Zainab giving Yusuf the sort of dressing down that he himself had been on the receiving end of more often than he cared to remember, but as soon as Syed's mother noticed Yusuf's presence she seemed instead to freeze in terror like a rabbit caught in the headlights. She stood stock still, hands held stiffly at her sides shaking in spite of the clenched fists that tried to hide it. Yusuf reached out for her and smiled and she flinched away, as if burned but when she opened her mouth to protest her jaw seemed to lock and a flickering muscle in her cheek was the only give away that she was trying to say anything. A passer by might not notice. A passer by would only think she was standing still but Christian's encounter with Terrence had left him frozen and shaking and barely able to string words together, much like Zainab was now. Exactly as Zainab was now and the realisation hit home rather harshly as Christian's jaw fell open. He started forwards to intervene when he saw Yusuf stepped in close, way inside Zainab's personal space and grew concerned when he saw Yusuf muttered something under his breath that only the two of them could hear. It was an intimate gesture between two people who clearly had a lot of history, but he was close enough to see the reaction on Zainab's face, the flash of horror and despair as a hundred terrible memories all came flooding, rushing back.

 

“P-p-p-please don't,” Zainab whispered.

 

Christian could see her physically shaking now and they were both so caught up with what was happening that neither seemed to have noticed him. It scared Christian to see Zainab like this. He could only imagine what this man must have done to reduce the fearsome Zainab Masood to a quivering wreck and having been there only himself a few weeks ago he could indeed imagine – better than he would like.

 

By the unit door, Yusuf stroked fingers through Zainab's hair, cupped her cheek, kissed her jaw.

 

“Don't tell me you don't remember,” Yusuf asked quietly in a voice that was outwardly seductive in its velvety tones but held a hint of cold steel that made Christian distinctly uncomfortable and he didn't even know the man.

 

“Remember? I was fifteen years old, Yusuf.”

 

“I've never forgotten you, Zainab. I never stopped looking for you. I knew, one day, you'd stop running.”

 

“Please don't do this. Please, just leave me alone.”

 

“You know I can't do that. You are my wife, after all.”

 

“I am Masood's wife.”

 

“Is that what you told everyone? What you said when you turned up in Britain with a young man and a baby in tow? I suppose it says more about the people who believed you than it says about you, but you will always be my wife, Zainab.”

 

“Afia's mother...”

 

“Was a good fuck, but nothing more and Afia will never find out, will she? I won't be the one to tell her, her mother was a whore.”

 

“Your whore. As if doing what you did to me wasn't enough you had to humiliate me too by taking other women to our bed.”

 

“I was seventeen, Zainab and curious. Forgive a young man his foolishness.”

 

Zainab spat in his face. “I forgive you nothing!”

 

Suddenly Yusuf sprang, grabbing her throat dangerously with one hand and grasping her breast with the other. “You would do well, wife, not to forget who you are dealing with, here.”

 

Zainab whimpered making Christian shudder and the tears tracking down her face were the final straw. He leaped forwards, strong-arming Yusuf away from Zainab and throwing him as far out of his grasp as he could, putting himself between the two of them.

 

“This is a private conversation,” Yusuf glared at Christian darkly.

 

“Yeah, well, it'll be a private funeral in a minute if you don't clear off. Now.”

 

Yusuf tried to sidestep around Christian, but Christian caught him around the waist and stopped him. “Get off me!” Yusuf tried to get away. “This is none of your business.”

 

Finally fed up with the whole thing and not wanting to go against his own principles in getting physical, Christian kept his grip firm around Yusuf's waist with one hand and grabbed his balls tight with the other and squeezed. Yusuf yelped painfully giving Christian a perverse pleasure in seeing the man squirm. He leaned in close. “She's my mother in law. I just made it my business. Now clear off!”

 

This time when Christian pushed him away Yusuf stumbled and faltered for a few feet, then stopped. He cast a dark look at both of them and a darkly meaningful look at Zainab but this time, finally, he disappeared into the alleyway by the unit and the echo of footsteps in the darkness let them know that he was really going away.

 

 

When they were finally alone, Christian turned to Zainab to find her shaking and terrified. He reached out a hand for her but she started away and he wondered then if she even knew who he was.

 

“Zainab? Its Christian...”

 

“Get away from me! Please! Just leave me alone!”

 

“Zainab, I just want to help.”

 

Zainab stepped away, still physically shaking and Christian looked at her with grave concern. In spite of Zainab's constant and persistent behaviour towards him, the woman standing here now white with fear was his partner's mother. Just because she didn't like him didn't mean he had to be completely heartless.

 

“He's gone, I promise.”

 

“I...I....I don't want y..you to see me like this. Not you. Anyone but you.”

 

Christian swallowed down the ball of hurt churning in his throat and breathed in deeply to control himself. “Zainab,” He glanced around to check all was quiet and whispered very softly. “Let me help you.”

 

When Zainab didn't respond, Christian was quiet for a long moment. “I do understand, you know.”

 

Zainab snorted at that, the only sign of her old self coming through the shamed, humiliated, terrified woman standing here like a quaking fifteen year old girl. “No you don't. Me and you we have nothing in common. You don't know what you're talking about. Please, I need to go home now.”

 

At that moment Zainab pushed past him but Christian stopped her as she brushed past with a gentle hand laid on her upper arm. “Zainab,” Christian looked her in the eye, terrified at what he was about to do but feeling he had not other option. Not for himself, but for Syed. “I understand,” His eyes searched hers and when recognition and latent horror finally clicked Christian now found that he was the one who couldn't keep her eye.

 

“Terrence. Ex-boyfriend. About fifteen years back,” Christian supplied shortly.

 

“You...you were....”

 

“Yeah; and I don't know about you but I wouldn't wish that on anyone, not even my worst enemy.”

 

Dark eyes flashed up in terror and then wrenched away, looking down at the pavement, across the street, anywhere but at him. “No. N-n-n-no. It was nothing, it...” Suddenly unsure of herself and what this meant, Zainab faltered to a stop.

 

Christian just looked at her and after a long moment, pulled her into a hug. Sometimes there were no words, nothing that you could say to make things better but the simplest touch of humanity was all it took, if you cared enough, to show someone struggling that they were not on their own.

 

When Zainab pulled away a few moments later she looked better – marginally – but still pale and shaky and Christian couldn't be sure that she wouldn't just keel over from shock if she went home on her own.

 

“How about I walk you home? Mas'll be back from his round in a bit, he'll look after you.”

 

“No! Please, Christian, not Mas! I'm begging you, please. You can't tell him!”

 

Christian paused. Did this mean that Mas didn't know?

 

“Mas would only go after him, get into trouble. I couldn't bear it if he got hurt because of me.”

 

“Well then at least let me get a cup of tea somewhere. The unit?”

 

“No.”

 

“My flat?”

 

Zainab glanced at the door and wrung her hands, her hunched shoulders were a red flag showing up her reluctance to face the truth of who Christian was now and what he did with her own son behind the sinful blue door across the street.

 

“Cafe?”

 

Another shake of the head.

 

“The park then.”

 

“Why can't you just leave me alone?”

 

“Because you're Syed's mother and I don't think you want to be alone right now.”

 

Finally, after more hesitating, there was a small silent nod that he would have missed had Syed's mannerisms not been so much like his mother. Christian said nothing. If Zainab was anything like Syed then talking was exactly what she didn't need right now but a hot drink, a spot of company and a good dose of sugar would certainly help.

 

 

The walk to the park was short and slightly awkward. It wasn't far to the park behind Bridge Street. A few times Zainab stared at him, clearly wondering about his silence but when the got to the park Christian sat her down on one of the benches and gave her his phone.

 

“Call anyone you need to. I'll be right over there if you need me,” Christian nodded at the tea and coffee stand that was hovering in the corner of the park. Zainab watched him as he went and ordered a tea and a coffee and picked up a couple of sweet, sugary cake bars to go with the drinks. When she was sure he was going to be a few minutes, she picked up the phone with a quick glance over at the coffee bar to check Christian was still there and unlocked his phone to find a picture of his son grinning. Zainab was no technophile, but she knew enough about phones to know where the pictures were and searched through them, finding lots of photographs of Syed and even a few of Tamwar with Syed.

 

Shortly after he was back and set down a sweet tea with a chocolate brownie bar beside Zainab where she had laid his phone down again.

 

She blew on the tea carefully and then cautiously sipped it so as not to burn her mouth.

 

“You should eat something,” Christian told her after several more sips when she hadn't made any moves towards the cake he'd bought her.

 

“I don't think I could.”

 

“Well its there if you change your mind,” He said as if talking to a child with no appetite at dinner. It was unnerving to see the normally loud and rambunctious Masood matriarch in such a state and Christian tried to encourage her by taking his own advice and setting into his coffee and lemon drizzle cake.

 

Seeing him eat seemed to spark something in her because Zainab gave him a dark look, but she relented and picked up the cake and sure enough, once she had started she couldn't seem to stop until it was gone.

 

“Adrenaline crash,” He told her kindly. “Sugar hit and a hot drink always helps.”

 

Zainab still didn't say anything. She didn't seem to have the energy for an argument but sat quietly and meekly and continued sipping her tea. It was slightly disturbing to Christian who dug into his own coffee trying not to watch her or hovering over her, but just being there. When Zainab's shoulders began to shake, when she set down her half-empty tea because her hands were jerking too much, when the shock of what had almost but not quite happened settled in properly and silent tears began to drip down from her eyes Christian didn't say anything because there was nothing to say. He just reached out and put his arm around her and pulled her into a hug.

 

With Zainab, as with Syed, Christian didn't do anything, didn't say anything, didn't try to dry her tears or tell her it would be okay, he just simply gave her the space to feel, to let her emotions work their way through her system until she had cried her eyes dry and the sun had risen a little higher in the sky.

 

“Its not your fault. He had no right to do what he did.”

 

“If I hadn't been alone, if I'd just waited for Tamwar...”

 

“Don't think like that. Its not your fault and nothing you could have done would have stopped him. You didn't bring it on yourself, its all on him. Most of these things are planned, Zainab. If it hadn't been at the Unit it would have been somewhere else. He's the one in the wrong, not you.” Christian rubbed the top of her arm in his familiar way, unnerved and yet relieved to find her clinging to him. At least she was safe here. “I'm here. He won't touch you again, I promise.”

 

 

Their first cups having gotten cold, Christian went and got them a second cup a short while later, buying coffee again for himself and for Zainab, a second cup of hot cup of tea with lots of sugar, just the way she had always liked it when she was having a bad day at Masala Queen. She looked at him, even opened her mouth to say thank you when he came back but when no words came out he knew she just needed some more time and so instead of pressuring her he settled down next to her with his own drink and sipped it quietly as he waited.

 

“I'm guessing you were pretty young,” Christian started after a while, giving Zainab an opening if she wanted it to talk or to not talk, but at least giving her the choice.

 

“W-why do you say that?” Zainab sniffled.

 

Christian looked at her and sighed, but not unkindly, more exasperated in a familiar way with the 'like-mother-like-son' trait of obstinacy. “Because you looked about twelve years old standing there shaking. I should know. When it happened to me...you don't expect to meet the person who attacked you in broad daylight in the middle of the street. I saw him and fifteen years just melted away. Its like I was that beat-up, lonely, scrawny kid trying to make a go of it on his own all over again.”

 

There was a long pause. Zainab wrung her hands, looking down at them, then curled the around the warm cup on the table and pulled it close to her. “Fifteen,” She whispered quietly.

 

“And you've kept it to yourself all this time?”

 

“Did you tell anyone?” Zainab countered.

 

“No. Well, not until Sy.”

 

“People look at you, Christian. They look at you differently. They judge you, if they know.”

 

“It wasn't your fault.”

 

“If only I'd been a better wife, if I hadn't run away, if-”

 

“Stop. He had no right and you know it.”

 

“I'm scared, Christian. I'm so scared of him being here. Mas tries but he doesn't understand and the thought of what you and Syed do, every day it brings it back to me.”

 

Christian blinked. Well, he hadn't been expecting that.

 

Zainab hung her head in shame. “Please don't tell anyone.”

 

“Have you and Mas never, you know, tried that?”

 

“No.”

 

“Never?”

 

“It is forbidden.”

 

“If you want to talk about it...” Christian offered, but Zainab promptly declined.

 

“We should go to the police. I'll give a statement, tell them what happened.”

 

“No, please. I don't want any fuss.”

 

“He could be dangerous, Zainab. What if that was Syed he'd attacked? Would you be telling him not to go?”

 

“I couldn't face that, Christian. Please don't make me,” She begged and it struck Christian so hard that he had to swallow back tears.

 

“Alright, alright. Easy,” He pulled her back into a hug.

 

“All I ever wanted was a family that loved me. Is that so much to ask?”

 

“And they do, they all do. Even Syed, as difficult as that is for you to believe.”

 

“No. No, if he loved me he wouldn't...he wouldn't do those, those gay things.”

 

“That's not fair. You can't expect him not to live his life because of what happened to you. Syed is his own man. What he does, he does by his own choice. That's what matters, Zainab, not who puts what where.”

 

“You won't tell him what happened, will you? Please, Christian.”

 

“Not if you'd rather I didn't.”

 

“Thank you,” Zainab muttered.

 

“You could tell him yourself. All you have to do is knock our door if you want to see him. Whenever you wanted, all you have to do is ask. No one needs to know.”

 

“How can I meet him when I cannot look him in the eye, Christian? The thought of what you do to him – I cannot bear it. My own son. I know, Christian. I know what that is like and I – no,” Zainab waved her arm in a brusque dismissal.

 

“Zainab, what we do isn't the same and we don't do it all the time either. I would never hurt him, Zainab, I couldn't,” He paused. “Out of curiosity, what is it you imagine us doing anyway?”

 

“Like you need to ask. You take advantage of him!”

 

“You really think that?”

 

“Of course! I mean, you're bigger than him, you've been gay longer and you have this, this power over him that no one else can seem to get around.”

 

“He loves me, that's all. It doesn't mean I force him. I love him, I trust him and I respect him and for what its worth there isn't one way to have gay sex. We do whatever it is we feel comfortable with and yeah, anal sex is a part of that but not the whole part. It doesn't have to be humiliating and its not shameful if its done right, between two people who accept it for what it is. The rest? Well its no one's business but ours. Look, since you're his mother and I know what he means to you, I'll tell you this. We waited until he felt fine with it, if it settles your mind at all.”

 

Zainab mused over this for a long moment as a thought formed itself in her mind. Eventually when she was ready, she spoke. “In my religion, as you know, it is not done to have sex before marriage. I have always followed this. I have always encouraged Syed and Tamwar to follow this although I have clearly failed with at least one of them but I did it, because this is what Islam says is right.”

 

“You can read that book your own way, you know. Syed does.”

 

“I'm not finished,” Zainab rebuked him. “Like I said, I have always followed this but from my own life I know that if the first person you sleep with is the one you spend your life with and they have been with many and know much more than you do, you do not know what is normal and right and what is...” Zainab tailed off, squirming in disgust and discomfort. “Not.”

 

Christian laughed, “Just because I've been out longer than he has doesn't mean I wear the trousers in our relationship. You're mistaken if you think the son of Zainab Masood could be anything but as stubborn and domineering as his mother. I think the world of him and he knows it. Sorry to burst your bubble.”

 

“But you're so much old than he is.”

 

“Zainab, there's no way of saying this without sounding like a soppy git, but I'd do anything for him.”

 

“Would you let him, erm, you know...” Zainab waved her hand meaningfully and Christian was getting equally amused and frustrated by Zainab's inability to complete any sentence involving the issue of gay sex.

 

“Top? Sure. I like everything.”

 

Zainab blushed at that thought. “And these other men?”

 

“No idea.”

 

“I cannot believe that Syed would let a stranger do these things to him, Christian.”

 

“I think perhaps you need to talk to him about that. I've already told you more than I should but lets just say, Syed doesn't do alone, very well but then again, I don't know if anyone does.”

 

“But how would he know? If no one ever taught him, how would he know what to do? What if he got hurt?”

 

“Well there are films and magazine and if you're really keen there are these things called books.”

 

“Really? I-I'm surprised. He never had a porn stash, you know.”

 

“That's what you think.”

 

“What do you mean by that?”

 

“You don't just decide to be gay, you know? Most kids know it by the time they hit puberty. We get very good at lying, to ourselves and to others, because we have to be. We lie, we hide, we kid ourselves that its not real, that its not happening, that if it is happening we can hide and it'll be like nothing ever happened. Syed knew he was gay, I knew I was gay. Like most gay teenagers we found ways of hiding it. Syed had gay porn, Zainab, he just wasn't stupid enough to keep it in his bedroom. Kept in the shed in the garden, where all the spiders are. He knew you hated them. Thing is, secrets always come out in the end and when they do, its the getting it out that's the painful bit but once everyone knows you'd be surprised by how much support you get. Yeah, telling people can be embarrassing and humiliating and you feel like you want the ground to swallow you up but after that first hurdle, its not so hard. It's the secret that gives them power over you because the last thing you want is for anyone to find out. When I was raped, I didn't have anyone to tell. It was just me, on my own, but the thought of Terrence telling Syed what had happened when we bumped into him, of Terrence giving Syed his version of events was about the most humiliating thing I've ever thought about. So I bucked up and told him and you know what? It wasn't so bad.”

 

“Who would I tell? No one would believe me.”

 

“I don't think that's true, but then again, sometimes these things go both ways, Zainab. You could tell your family what happened today and what happened before and you could encourage them to be a bit more thoughtful towards Syed. I'm not saying you should start going to prayers all together again but popping over for a cuppa sometimes or letting him see Kamil wouldn't hurt.”

 

“That's out of the question, I don't want Kamil picking ideas up from Syed.”

 

“Being gay isn't catching, Zainab. No more than being raped is.”

 

An awkward silence fell. Both knew he was right. It was said in Zainab's shoulders, it was said in the set of Christian's mouth but out loud, neither spoke.

 

Christian wondered if it was insensitive to say that, but he also felt he was right and he needed Zainab to understand that.

 

Zainab felt him look at her. She couldn't bring herself to refute that. In her heart she knew he was right but to admit that, to back down and let him have the moral high ground was, well it was humiliating. Perhaps Christian would understand that.

 

“You know, we should probably head back. He'll be looking for you,” She commented.

 

Christian sighed. It had been too much to hope, he supposed, to get her to go as far as he'd hoped but they'd talked, that had to be good and he felt for the first time in a long time that they might have achieved some sort of uneasy, unsettling understanding of each other. An agreement to disagree, at the very least.

 

“At this time in the morning? He'll still be sound asleep. I woke him up when I left to tell him I was on my way out and all I got was 'Five more minutes',” Christian immitated Syed. “Five more minutes? Five more hours, more like.”

 

“I swear that boy could sleep for England. There were mornings I had to wake him up three times to get him to school on time.”

 

Christian laughed pleasantly. “Only three?”

 

Zainab opened her mouth to respond, then shut it again, suddenly awkward. “We're not bonding are we?” She asked, screwing her face up in horror at the thought.

 

Christian tilted his head and grinned. “Us? Can pigs fly?”

 

“Christian?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Did you know him? The man?”

 

“Ex-boyfriend. Control freak, you know the type.”

 

“I'm no rapist,” Zainab spat.

 

“Never said you were. But people in glass houses shouldn't throw stones.”

 

“Perhaps you are right,” Zainab nodded quietly, seeming to find some measure of relief in this statement.

 

Christian, for his part, was shocked but he tried not to show it. He felt like this moment should be on film, but making a big thing of it wouldn't help Zainab come to terms with her eldest son's new life, or what had happened to her in her own own past and so he picked up his coffee and drained the last bit and watched her as she picked up her tea and sipped it cautiously until it was empty and she set it down with an awkward glance at Christian. If it was Syed he would have just pulled him into a big hug but as it was Zainab he hesitated until he got frustrated with himself, threw caution to the wind and wound an arm around her and no one was more surprised than him when she hugged him back, however briefly.

 

“Come on, I'll walk you home.”

 

“I think I'll be fine now.”

 

“And I think I should walk my mother in law home. Besides, you need a man to guard you from all those dangerous flying pigs.”

 

~


End file.
